


Recovery

by WielderOfPens



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Dadza, Dream is manipulative, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ghostbur makes an appearance at some point, Good Sibling Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Happy Ending, Past Abuse, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Tommy still doesn't understand, Would you like some blue in these trying times?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28125918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WielderOfPens/pseuds/WielderOfPens
Summary: Tommy sets up base under Technoblade's house, not sure why he does it to begin with. It's only a matter of time before Technoblade finds him, and Tommy would have to face those consequences when they arise.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 486





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: this fic is non-compliant with the events of the streams from December 16th, and slightly bending what happened prior as well.

The ground was hard and cold. Tommy grimaced, curling a little bit tighter around himself. He must have fallen off his cot again. It was probably early morning, judging by the temperature, as well. At least he didn’t wake up in the middle of the ocean like he had so many mornings before.

When he opened his eyes, it didn’t take long for the memories from the previous day to come flooding back in a flash. He wasn’t in his tent at Logsteadshire anymore. He wasn’t lying beside his bed, under a canopy of wool, with a picture of the queen as his only - no, his second-best - comfort. That was destroyed in a flash, blown up by his only friend. His only friend, who he’d run away from.

“No,” he told himself out loud, his voice echoing strangely in the small cavern he’d dug out for himself. “Dream isn’t my friend.”

Saying it out loud didn’t help to dispel the fog that clouded his mind. It just gave more noise to his thoughts. He shook his head briefly, which helped only to disorient himself slightly as he sat up from the hard ground.

The reality began to set in. He was underneath Techno’s house. For some reason, he’d thought it would be a good idea to not only go straight to the murderous pig’s house, but set up camp underneath it. Sure, he’d been able to steal some of Techno’s stuff, including his spare gear and some valuables, but there was hardly anything keeping him here.

Speaking of the murderous pig, he could hear footsteps echo above his small space, walking back and forth leisurely and mindlessly. Tommy had dug down deep enough that it was a muffled sound, but it was still too close for comfort. He may be lonely and lost, but he wasn’t hoping to face Techno if he didn’t have to. Maybe he could dig outwards from his cave and upwards until he reached the surface once he was far enough from the house, maybe that would work.

Determination set in. Tommy reached into the hastily made chest he’d placed in the corner last night before collapsing in exhaustion, and pulled out his half broken pickaxe. It was netherite, at least, so it should last him long enough to get far enough away. He pushed himself to his feet.

It must have been the lack of food and water over the past day, or maybe all the dust in the air was getting to his brain, but the room started spinning once he was properly upright again, and his foot slipped.

 _Dong_.

Tommy froze in place, even as he was sprawled on the floor, staring with wide eyes at the bell which was still swinging from the impact of Tommy’s foot against it. The sound echoed for a second longer before it faded away, leaving only a ringing in his ears.

It was silent. Too silent. The meandering footsteps from above no longer sounded in his underground cavern.

Maybe Techno had gone for a walk, maybe he was outside, and that was why there was no noise from above, he’d left the house and he hadn’t heard the bell ring. That damned bell, a bittersweet reminder of his time back in Logsteadshire, which he could only look at and think of his friend, dancing around and hitting the bell, generating laughter and excitement. He’d pulled it out of the rubble after Dream left him alone to his thoughts, and brought it all the way here.

Now, it might as well be his death.

Footsteps sounded again from above, resonating louder than ever, shaking Tommy like a leaf. It was just enough to startle him back into action as he picked up the bell, covered it in cloth to keep it silent, and grabbed his pickaxe from where it had fallen on the ground. He had to move. He had to move now.

There was no time to grab any of his things, only to get out of here as fast as possible. The only thought that was coherent in his mind was go, go, go, go, go.

Tommy felt like he was in a dream. He wished he was in a dream. No matter how fast he needed to move, he was too slow, his limbs moving through honey, chained down by the weight of his regrets and his guilt. The pickaxe was slippery in his palms. He was too slow.

The sound of breaking stone rang out from behind him, and Tommy cowered in the dent he’d barely made in the wall. He held tight to the pickaxe, and it still slipped out of his hands, clattering to the floor. He didn’t bend to pick it up.

“Tommy?”

Tommy didn’t cry. Tommy was stronger than that, he was a big man who had learned how to live without his friends. He’d built up a new home from the ground up, with only a ghost and a man with a smiley-face mask by his side.Tommy was grown up now, and grown-up men didn’t cry.

But he’d not had enough time to grow up. Not properly. No, he was exiled from his land by his best friend, given not even a day to pack his things and move out. He had been living away from his country for a week, and that was hardly enough time to grow up.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted, the words flying out of his mouth like birds from a cage too small to fit them. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, hands moving in the familiar pattern of unstrapping his chestplate. He turned his body towards where he knew the ladder was, but didn’t lift his head. With trembling fingers and slippery palms, _why were his hands so slippery_ , he pulled the offending armor off his body, laying it on the ground where it was quickly joined by his helmet, boots, and leg pieces. Tommy bent to pick up his pickaxe, then moved forward just a step to break the ground in front of him, to create the hole which his armor would be destroyed in. “I’m sorry,” he said again, and through blurry eyes, watched himself dig himself into the ground, into his own grave.

Out of the corner of his eye was the tip of a boot. It was not guarded by netherite, not like it should be. It was just a snow boot, a boot made not for keeping the flesh safe, but for retaining warmth and repelling snow and moisture, and nothing more. It stepped forward, almost hesitantly.

“Tommy?” the voice repeated, this time sounding confused. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be here, I’ll go, I’m sorry,” Tommy rambled, hitting the ground with a bit more force. Why wasn’t he helping him? Was this part of Tommy’s punishment? Normally he helped with this part.

Tommy’s hands shook, and the pickaxe slipped into the shallow hole, clattering against the armor on the edge of the dip, nudging the pile in with it. He looked down at the gear. The pickaxe could go. He would probably want to blow it up with the armor anyway.

“Tommy, look at me,” said the voice, insistently. “I’m not angry with you.”

Tommy blinked and watched as twin droplets of moisture fell into the hole with everything else. The words didn’t make sense, but he had to be obedient. He had to be obedient, or Dream would leave him and he would be alone, with no friends-

He looked up. Instead of being met with that emotionless smiling mask, instead a man with a pig’s snout looked back at him, his scarred skin clashing with the soft blue of his coat, a sheathed sword always by his side, but appearing less deadly and more like a careful precaution surrounded by the wool of the winter wear.

“Tommy, what are you doing?”

“I’m sorry,” Tommy said again. “I, I had to go, I didn’t know where to go, my tent was blown up, and all my things were destroyed, and, I found your house-”

“You’re shaking,” Techno said, all matter-of-fact, and before Tommy could say a word, a heavy weight suddenly rested over his shoulders, and if he weren’t suddenly supported by a strong arm and a steady body, he would have fallen to the ground beneath it.

Tommy blinked, hot moisture leaving tracks down his cheeks. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Techno was supposed to be upset with him, for taking his things, for camping beneath his house, for being here and jeopardizing his location. He was supposed to hate Techno, for killing his best friend, for adding to the destruction of his country, his L’Manburg. He was supposed to be mocked, ridiculed for being exiled from the very same country so soon after he had put so much effort towards winning it back from their oppressors. But instead, what was this? Pity?

Tommy opened his mouth, even as he was unsure of what he was going to say, but instead of getting any words out, he felt his legs buckle under him just before the world faded to black.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing that Tommy noticed when he woke up was the sound of a crackling fire. Then he became conscious of the heavy weighted blanket enveloping him, keeping him warm. Finally, in the quiet, he could hear breathing, each exhale accompanied by a little _huff_.

Tommy was afraid to open his eyes. He tried to keep his breathing even, keep his body relaxed, keep his consciousness hidden. But he heard shuffling from beside him, and a shadow cast over his body for a brief moment before moving away. Just as he thought he was in the clear, the bed dipped slightly beside him, creaking beneath the weight of two people.

He squeezed his eyes shut a little tighter. Of course Techno could tell he was awake. Not a single detail escaped the man’s attention.

“Good morning,” Techno started, and Tommy braced himself. Memories flew through his mind as he remembered that day, November 16th, which had destroyed everything. He remembered Techno’s story. How the pig had held those skulls before him like a lit match to a fuse, and told Tommy he was like Theseus, a hero exiled for doing what he thought was right. Here was Techno’s time to gloat. He would be named Theseus once more, then sent out back into the cold to die. Techno hesitated, though. What was he waiting for? The pig huffed again before finishing. “...brother.”

Tommy froze, his thoughts and worries grinding to a halt. Brother. He hadn’t heard that word in so many years. Even when he, Wilbur, and Techno had been together in Pogtopia, they worked together as comrades, not as family. It felt like a different life when they played together as children, before Techno left to pave his own path, before war and discs and everything else.

“Tommy,” Techno said quietly, his deep voice gruff as if from disuse. “Sit up, you need to eat.”

Tommy obeyed, too shocked to do anything else. As he pushed himself upright, he took a brief look around to find himself in an unfamiliar room. It was clearly still Techno’s house, if he was judging by the theme, so it must be his upper floor, which Tommy hadn’t bothered exploring before. Techno held out a bowl of steaming liquid to him, which Tommy took by instinct, looking down at the substance questioningly.

“It’s mushroom stew,” Techno explained, handing him a spoon and standing abruptly. “I’ll be downstairs.”

Only after Techno disappeared down the ladder did Tommy realize that he wasn’t wearing his blue coat from yesterday. Instead, surrounding him in a cocoon was the heaviest, warmest coat he’d ever worn. What was this? Did Techno really care enough to let him sleep in his bed and give him food and his coat to keep him warm? No, no, this was just pity. Techno never cared that much for him. Even when they were kids, Techno was always distant, and when he left, that sentiment only solidified. It had to just be pity, and Tommy wasn’t one to accept pity gifts, he should throw the soup out and leave-

Tommy’s stomach growled loudly, interrupting his train of thought.

On second thought, maybe he should eat first, then consider leaving.

Tommy dug in, finding the soup hot, almost enough to burn, but he didn’t care. It was too long since he had hot food or anything that wasn’t beef jerky. He might as well savor this while he had it.

He was just scraping the bottom of the bowl when he heard the door downstairs open and close. Soft voices sounded, but they were impossible to parse. Was it Dream? See, Dream really did care about Tommy, he came to find him and keep him safe from all the monsters and the cold outside-

The bowl forgotten, Tommy sprang from the bed, peering down the ladder hole to greet his friend. But for the second time today, he was surprised to find that he wasn’t greeted by a smiley face, but rather by massive dark feathered wings.

Philza. Phil had visited him, when he was at Logsteadshire. He had stopped by to say hi, even passing him a friendship emerald and gifting him some boots as a present. But Phil hadn’t come to his beach party, and he hadn’t been around for the past few days, when Tommy needed him the most. He withdrew quickly from the hole, even as he made direct eye contact with Techno over Phil’s head.

“...I hope it’ll fit,” Phil was saying softly as Tommy sat by the ladder, just far away enough that he couldn't be seen from below. “I’ll admit it’s not my best work, but it’ll do its job. Fashion doesn’t matter in the wilderness anyway.”

“I’m sure it’ll fit, and it looks great,” Techno replied just as quietly. “You know him better than anyone. Thank you.”

“Of course. Do you think he’ll take kindly to me being here or should I make myself scarce for a few hours?”

“You can hang out with the bees or in the basement if you want,” Techno said after a moment. “Thank you again. I’m sorry for asking so urgently with no warning.”

“You know I’d do this for any of you. Wilbur hardly needs me anymore, but I’ll always be here for you three.”

There was the sound of rustling fabric before the door opened and closed again, footsteps sounding out on the porch floorboards. There was a brief pause of silence, until Techno sighed. “Tommy, come down, I have something for you.”

Tommy hesitated. He didn’t want to. He would like to stay here, tucked in Techno’s coat and feeling content and slightly sleepy from the warm soup for as long as he could. But he had to follow the directions.

He climbed down the ladder laboriously, avoiding making eye contact with Techno, who he knew was standing there behind him. The coat around his shoulders brushed against the ground when he reached the bottom rungs, and he hurried to lift it up. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Techno said. “Here.”

Tommy looked up to find a soft blue coat being held out to him. It looked just like Techno’s - it was probably made of the same fabric and everything. In his other hand was a pair of snow boots, also nearly identical to Techno’s, just smaller.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Tommy slipped the bigger coat off his shoulders and exchanged it for the one being handed to him. He put it on, pushing his arms through the sleeves to find very quickly that it fit perfectly. Even though he wore only a thin t-shirt beneath the coat, he instantly felt warmer and somehow safer. It smelled like smoke and ocean, and inexplicably of potion brewing. Techno sat the boots down on the ground in front of Tommy too, and he looked down at his feet. He’d been missing a shoe for a day now, and his remaining one was ragged and falling apart. Gratefully, he kicked the one shoe off of his foot and put the boots on.

For some reason, instead of thanking Techno for the coat, the first words out of his mouth were, “Why blue?”

Techno looked as surprised as Tommy felt. “Oh,” he said. “That was Ghostbur’s idea. He was there when Ph- when the coats were being made, and insisted that using his blue to dye the wool would help us feel less sad when we were out here in the cold and the snow.”

Tommy looked down at his coat, feeling along the blue fabric in a little bit of awe. Was this where Ghostbur had gone? He’d been absent from Logsteadshire for so long. Was he here in this cold unforgiving land?

He blinked, his thoughts screeching to a halt. Wait. “I don’t deserve- I don’t need this,” Tommy said abruptly, starting to pull the coat off. “This is just a pity gift, I don’t-”

“Tommy,” Techno interrupted, and the resonant tone with which his name was spoken caused him to pause. “You know me. Would I do anything out of pity? For anyone?”

Tommy hesitated, the coat still half hanging off of his shoulders. He didn’t say anything. His hands were shaking again, but not from the cold. No, his whole body was shaking. This didn’t make sense - none of it made sense. If it wasn’t pity, what was it?

He was suddenly enveloped in a warmth that he hadn’t felt since before Tubbo became president and Wilbur had died, taking L’Manburg with him. He grasped blindly at the fabric in front of him, clutching on as if for dear life. Techno smelled like potatoes and campfires and metal.

The front door opened and closed, a draft blowing against Tommy’s legs for just a moment before the cold was replaced with the warmth of another person. Soft feathers brushed against Tommy’s cheek, and he didn’t have to look up to know who had arrived. Philza smelled of wind, the ocean, and honey.

Here in the arms of his older brother and his father, it smelled like home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the support so far! This is my first time writing fanfiction ever and I’m really grateful for the kudos and comments, you guys are the best:)

Tommy gave in after a little while. It was harder to do than someone would have expected, to give in to staying with family and being accepted into a new home. But there was a tightness in his chest that he could not decipher nor remove.

Every morning, Tommy would wake up to find a bowl of soup by his bedside and a dirty bowl and spoon already in the sink, the familiar blue coat missing from the hanger. Every morning, Techno would go out and tend to the bees and the turtles, groom his horse, check on the villagers, and scan the perimeter to ensure that they weren’t receiving any unwanted visitors. Every morning, Tommy would be sitting at the table when the door would open again and Techno would enter, replacing his coat beside the slightly smaller one by the door. Every morning, Techno would make a snide comment about Tommy’s bedhead, then muss it up further with his hand before going to wash his dishes. Every afternoon, Philza would stop by, something new in hand, whether it be bread from L’Manburg or a flower from the far away plains. Every afternoon, Techno would take Philza and Tommy out with him, into the cold where the biting frost was pushed back only by their woolen coats, and they would spar or forage or hunt. Every evening, as the sun went down, Techno would read by the firelight, glasses perched on the end of his snout, and Philza would go home with promises to be back the following day. Every evening, Tommy would lie in bed, watching the flickering lights on the ceiling and listening to the sound of turning pages and crackling fire, trying to decipher the tightness in his chest.

It wasn’t until the eighth day when Tommy finally figured it out.

“Tommy,” Techno said in a slightly panicked voice that instantly put Tommy on high alert. The pig was stepping back into the house from his morning chores, but he was back earlier than usual. “You need to hide. Dream sent me a message asking to speak, and he’s on his way now.” Techno waved a paper in his hand, which Tommy reached for. Techno handed it to him, and while Tommy was reading, hurried down the ladder to the basement.

As Tommy quickly read the neat writing, the tightness in his chest grew.

_Technoblade,_

_I hope you are doing well. I need to speak with you today about an urgent matter. I will be there around noon._

_Dream_

Dream was coming. Dream was coming. Dream was coming.

The phrase repeated like a mantra in Tommy’s head, over and over and over and over. He wasn’t sure if he was terrified or...

_Dream was coming._

Techno hurriedly climbed back up the ladder. “Tommy. Listen, we don’t have much time. You can’t hide in the basement, I have a feeling he would find you. I don’t think I can believably cover up the way down in time. I don’t want to send you outside, because he would see your footprints in the snow. We’re lucky it snowed last night and covered up your steps from yesterday. You’ll have to hide somewhere in the house and use an invisibility potion.”

Techno brandished a small bottle filled with smoky grey liquid. He paused. “...Tommy?”

Tommy blinked. “What?” The tightness in his chest was bigger than ever.

Techno took a deep breath, the exhale coming out as a loud huff. He took a step closer to Tommy and put the potion back into his pocket. Then he lifted both of his hands and set them on Tommy’s shoulders. “Tommy, I need you to concentrate. Listen to me. Alright? Right here. Listen to me.”

The touch on his shoulders caused Tommy to jerk out of his thoughts, and the look on his brother’s face made him blink again. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Okay Tommy. Listen. Dream is coming, but he’s not your friend. _He’s not your friend_. I don’t know what he did to you while you were over there with him, but it wasn’t anything good. Alright? Do you understand? Whatever you do, you _must hide when he arrives_. If he sees you, he’ll kill you. I’m almost sure of it.”

Tommy blinked again, Techno’s words floating around a few times in his mind. _Dream is coming. He’s not your friend. Dream is coming. You must hide when he arrives. He’ll kill you. Dream is coming._

A cold shiver went down Tommy’s spine. “Okay.” His voice came out small. Weak. “Okay,” he said again, firmly. He shivered again. “But... but what if he doesn’t want to kill me? What if he’s just trying to make sure I’m alive?” His voice was small again, but he didn’t have the strength to stand any taller.

“He was manipulatin’ you, Tommy!” Techno said, raising his voice just slightly, and Tommy flinched, cowering. Techno cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I’m really sorry, that wasn’t good of me. Here. We’ll talk about this later, alright? For now, I need you to trust me.” Techno pulled out the invisibility potion again, handing it to Tommy, then freezing in place, his ear flicking and eyes narrowing.

In a quick movement, Techno turned to the side and threw open the lid of the chest that was beside the brewing stands. “He’s here, damn it, he’s early. Tommy. Drink the potion. You’ll have to hide in the box. Okay?”

Tommy hurried to follow the instructions, handing the empty bottle back to Techno after downing the potion, ignoring the strange sensation of being unable to see himself and the tingle that ran through his blood as it worked its way through his system. He stepped into the box, curling in on himself. He would barely fit when the lid was shut. Techno’s eyes flicked back and forth for a moment.

“Are you in?” he asked, hushed.

“Yeah,” Tommy replied in a whisper.

Techno shut the lid, and it was dark.

Tommy could hear nothing but Techno’s muffled footsteps and the harsh sound of his own breathing. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he realized he could see through the slats of the box, just enough to tell when shadows passed. Techno stepped by one direction, then the other, pacing.

A knock sounded in the room, and Techno paused for just a moment, taking a breath before the door opened.

“Good morning, Dream,” he said simply. Calmly. LIke nothing was wrong.

“Morning,” Dream replied, and Tommy’s heart leapt in his chest, equally yearning towards the voice and shying away from it at the same time. “How have you been, Techno?”

“Mm. Fine. Been keeping busy caring for the bees and turtles. Did you see them on your way here?”

“I did, they look nice,” Dream replied. “Alright. I’ll get to the point. Tommy’s missing.”

“...What do you mean?” Techno asked, sounding legitimately confused. “Isn’t that the point of him being exiled and all?”

“Well, yes, he should be ‘missing’ from L’Manburg and Dream SMP, but he left his camp where he’d been living before and I can’t track him. It seems like he came in this direction based on the cut-down trees in a nearby forest. Have you seen him?”

The tightness in Tommy’s chest was unbearable. Dream cared about him, he really did, he was coming to find him to make sure he was alive, why else would he be here? It was the only explanation, he had to show Dream he was okay-

Tommy pressed up on the box’s lid, only to find it firmly latched shut. It rattled slightly.

“I haven’t seen him,” Techno was saying, coughing slightly when the lid rattled. “I think I would have noticed footsteps in the snow if he was nearby. You can feel free to look around the area if you’d like, though. Just don’t let the turtles or the bees out.”

Dream didn’t say anything for a moment. “Alright, I will. Thanks. Let me know if you see him.”

“Mhm. Will do,” Techno confirmed with an air of finality. “Have a good day, Dream.”

The door opened. “You too.” There was another pause. “Can I ask why you have two coats of different sizes?”

Tommy stiffened. Dream knew he was here. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

“Oh, one’s for Phil,” Techno answered easily. “He has a spare that he leaves here in case he forgets his other one at home. He’s done it before. What are you asking, you implyin’ he’s living here or something? Did you miss the part where I set withers in L’Manburg because of him? You ought to know I wouldn’t keep him around if I saw him anyway.”

Dream chuckled with no humor behind it. “Mm. Fair enough. Alright, I’ll just have a glance around the area to be sure. See you around, Techno.”

The door shut.

When Techno unlatched the box’s lid, Tommy shoved it open so fast he nearly hit Techno in the chin with the lid. He realized suddenly that he was breathing heavily, sweat pouring down his neck and back.

“Tommy? Tommy. Shhh. Hey. You’re still invisible, but you need to stay quiet. Dream is still around.” Techno whispered so quietly that Tommy nearly didn’t hear him over the sound of his own panting. “Hey. Come on. Sit down at the table. I can’t see you, so I’m trusting you here. Tommy? Can you touch my hand please?”

Tommy moved on instinct, reaching out his hand to touch Techno’s, even though it took a couple tries to find where his own hand was.

“Alright. I’m going to hold your arm now, okay?” Techno gently wrapped a hand around Tommy’s wrist and guided Tommy carefully out of the chest and to the kitchen table. Tommy saw a flash of green out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned towards the window, it was already past. “Sit down here,” Techno whispered, pulling out the chair and releasing Tommy’s wrist. Tommy sat obediently.

Techno walked away then without another word, completing menial tasks like cleaning up the dishes and putting away ingredients from breakfast. Tommy watched through the windows, itching to get up and go outside to talk to Dream and assure him he’s okay. But Techno said to stay, and the tightness in Tommy’s chest agreed with Techno, even as it didn’t.

The minutes ticked by. At ten minutes, Tommy shifted, feeling his blood tingle again with the telltale sign of the potion beginning to wear off. He glanced up at Techno, who was squinting at him. His ear flicked, and he paused, completely silent.

“He’s gone. Your potion’s wearing off finally.” Techno put down the mug he was holding. He took a hesitant step towards Tommy. “How are you feeling?”

Tommy hesitated for a long moment. “Fine,” he said finally.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier,” Techno said quietly. “I shouldn’t have. It was my fault.”

“Did you mean it?” Tommy blurted, unable to help himself. “When you said you wouldn’t keep me around.”

“Tommy, you’re living in my house, of course I didn’t mean it.” Techno’s words, though slightly exasperated, were spoken quietly and genuinely. “I don’t agree with all your past actions, but that doesn’t mean you’re not my brother.”

Just slightly, Tommy felt the tightness in his chest subside.

Tommy was saved from having to reply to that by the door opening suddenly and crashing against the wall behind it. Philza stepped in, his hair and feathers ruffled and eyes wide.

“Oh, thank god you’re okay,” Phil spluttered, hurrying into the room to hug Tommy to his chest. “I passed by Dream on the way and he didn’t say much, just had this terrible look on his face.”

“I told you he was fine,” a voice said from behind Phil, and Tommy leaned back from his father’s embrace, wrinkling his nose and peering around him to see who was there. Wilbur - no, Ghostbur’s perpetually smiling face looked back at him. “See, nothing to worry about!”

“I just had to be sure,” Phil told Ghostbur, releasing Tommy. “What happened, Techno?”

As Techno recounted the story to Phil, Tommy blocked out the conversation and looked at Ghostbur instead. The ghost waved at him, smiling brightly. “Hi Tommy! How’s Logsteadshire?”

Tommy looked down at his lap. “Dream blew it up.”

“Oh. Okay! Is mushroom Henry okay?”

“No.”

“Oh, that’s unfortunate. Hey, you know how Dream sent me into the snowy biome to find polar bears?”

Tommy looked up, surprised. He’d assumed Ghostbur had just left him behind when he disappeared one day. “What?”

“Yeah, did you know I melt in the snow? It’s alright though, I found a polar bear, but he didn’t like me very much. You know what, I think you would have liked him.”

Tommy blinked. “You’ll have to bring me to meet him sometime, then,” he told Ghostbur.

“Yeah! If you can figure out how to get me to not melt in the snow, then sure! Hey, you seem kind of quiet. Here, have some blue.”

Tommy sighed as Ghostbur pulled the blue stuff from his pockets, handing some to Tommy. He had long since given up trying to give it back when gifted any. Instead, he smiled and accepted it. Something warm and familiar bloomed in his chest, and the tightness was pushed aside just a little.

“...the _bastard_ ,” Phil said vehemently behind Tommy, and he gripped a bit tighter at Ghostbur’s blue. “I swear, if he lays another hand on any of my sons, I will make him regret the day he was born.”

“Phil, I don’t want you to be hurt either,” Techno replied instantly. “We gotta stick together. Dream is dangerous, but he’s not invincible.”

Phil took a deep breath. “Yeah. We’ll stick together.” It was a bittersweet statement. A reminder of the past, when Techno left and Phil went to live on his own, and they were family only by name. But now, here, they were together again, even as they were in danger and one of their brothers was literally a ghost. He still didn’t know what to think of Dream and all of that, but he knew that he was safe here. He knew that the people here cared for him, legitimately and wholeheartedly. The tightness in Tommy’s chest loosened and released him, finally, for the first time since he arrived here.

Finally, surrounded by his family, he actually felt like he was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! Thank you for reading! I had fun writing this, and I hope to write more fanfiction in the future if I'm ever inspired again. Maybe you'll see me around later:) For now, bye, and thanks again!


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